


Wicked, Wicked Dreams

by ladyofstardvst



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Rivalry, friendly sabotage, they have a Lot to Unpack but would rather steal each others bounties instead, we got some SECRETS up in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-22
Updated: 2020-11-22
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:46:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27673546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofstardvst/pseuds/ladyofstardvst
Summary: one of those 'they're hiding History with a Rivalry and they should probably just sit down and Talk About It. why do that when you can bicker on a job?' kinds of things.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Wicked, Wicked Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> pls blame my busy schedule and not me for not writing anything since s2 came out, i am SORRY!!! i miss writing for sw tho!!!

Seasons of mist blanketed the city in secrets.

One city.

One bounty.

Two hunters.

_Many_ hidden things.

He was tailed by none other than you, this second hunter. He was a shadow among the silver fog, nothing but the ghost of a silhouette stalking his prey. The ghost knew you were nearby, didn’t mind because he was the one in the lead.

_For now_ , you thought, sidestepping into an alley. The streets were no longer viable, but the rooftops – _my_ , how much quicker those made things.

Your tracking fob was secured on your hip, concealed by clothes and armor and weaponry, but you knew where the target was going. Where he was. Where he hid.

Unfortunately, so did the Mandalorian.

Nothing in all the systems, all the worlds or galaxies combined would bring you more joy than to steal a bounty from under his feet just one time. Lock your cuffs around a target right as he made his grand entrance, too little too late, _oh I’m sorry_ , did that sting your pride?

As the Fates would have it, today was not that day. Nor was it the next job. Or the one after.

You were half tempted to shoot him the next time, Guild Code be damned – but you too, had honor of sorts. As much as a bounty hunter could have, anyway.

And, as the Fates would have it, your time _did_ come. Though it didn’t come without a fight.

He was a slippery sort, this bounty, but you were just as clever, just as slick. He couldn’t hide, couldn’t fight his way out from the corner he quite literally backed himself into. You advanced slowly, blaster aimed with one hand, cuffs dangling loosely from the other.

He was _slipper_ _y_ , but he wasn’t _dull_ , and he made it quite clear he had no pension for pain of any sort. Coming with you quietly and quickly, target secured, victory all yours-

The doors behind you hissed open, hissed closed. A shadow loomed beside you, in front of you, crossed the face of your newly acquired charge.

_You’ve got to be kidding me._

The shadow cocked it’s head to the side. It spoke in a voice you had grown to loathe, a voice obscured by a tainted beskar helmet. “Sorry I’m late.”

You paused.

A bubble of laughter crept up your throat, dispelled the intensity that clung to the air like dingy Cantina music.

For the first time, you stopped the infamous Mandalorian in his tracks. He hadn’t heard laughter in so long – and coming from you? He wasn’t sure how to respond, but you took the honor from him.

“’ _Sorry I’m late_ ’? That’s the best you have this time?” you motioned for the targets’ hands, which he presented in haste. His eyes darted from you to the other hunter, eyes wide, full of questions. You cuffed him in one swift maneuver, blaster not wavering once. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t think so.”

A blaster, pointed at your head.

This was becoming all too familiar.

A Mandalorian blocked your path to payment, to victory, to a wounded ego you were oh so eager to see in the flesh. A sigh left your lips, tugged your bounty roughly to your side, lowered your weapon. The Fates had finally given you a moment to breathe, but this would be no gift easily won, it seemed.

“Are we really going to do this?”

“That’s up to you, isn’t it?”

Your skills were not enough to beat the Mandalorian in a fight – something clear to both hunters in the room. You would have to become smoke, become shadow, become something entirely _other_ for this day to be yours, to make the Fates proud.

A grin, slow and sweet spread across your lips. “I’ll take my chances.”

In a breath, your blaster aimed above your heads and darkness swallowed you whole.

The Mandalorian cursed. The target squeaked. You dragged him behind as you ran, banking on your memory to be your eyes in the void.

This time, _you_ were the ghost. The shadow who haunted blind landscapes thick with tension, full of promise. Except you were not a quiet ghost, were not an unseen entity that floated on air with grace unwavering. No, you were _wise_ , _manipulating_ , playing with your food – because you knew he would be here, and you knew he would try to take this day from you.

And so you schemed. You laid down surprises he wasn’t expecting. You grinned when the hum of a whistle cut through the sound of your retreat, when Mandalorian armor slammed into a stack of crates and fell hard to the ground.

Fresh air greeted you in a back alley. Laughter spilled from your lips, and it poisoned the air. The target’s eyes were wide, questioning. He was shaking. You dropped your grip on his arm.

“Let’s go. He won’t stay down for long.”

He would pull himself from the wreckage, this other hunter – because now, this was all you knew.

One target, two hunters. A cavern of secrets that clung to them like ghosts.


End file.
